


Give Me Something To Cry About

by IronicAppreciation



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Asexual Character, Gen, Growing Up, Miscommunication, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, aroace character, brief angst, change of heart, phineas is aroace, sorry to break it to y’all, these kids love each other so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronicAppreciation/pseuds/IronicAppreciation
Summary: It’s like outgrowing a box of old toys. You never stop loving them, not really. But you don’t need them the way you used to. Or at least, you need them differently.
Relationships: EXCEPT - Relationship, It’s not phinabella, Not Really, Phineabella shippers will probably hate this, Phineas Flynn & Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, Phineas Flynn/Isabella Garcia-Shapiro, in fact - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 63





	Give Me Something To Cry About

**Author's Note:**

> :)

Contrary to the beliefs of their families, who have long lamented the fact that they _‘never gave each other a fighting chance,’_ Phineas and Isabella actually have tried (albeit with little success) to venture into the foreign realms of a romantic relationship before. 

It’s when they are both teenagers, acclimating to the inconveniences of a world you can’t bend to your will day in and day out because there are other responsibilities in your life that take top billing, that they go out on one rather underwhelming date. It happens at the end of their sophomore year, when Isabella's crush on Phineas has all but subsided and Phineas is getting increasingly more and more confident in the idea that maybe he just doesn't want to date anyone. 

Suffice it to say, there are no doubts left in either of their minds by the night's end. 

There aren't many times in her life when Isabella finds herself at odds with her fireside sisters, but when Phineas calls her up out of the blue after school one day—

(Red flag number one. Phineas _hates_ phone calls.)

—and sheepishly stumbles over the words "do you wanna go get ice cream with me on Friday?" in a voice that's so clearly uncomfortable and unsure that it's barely even recognizable as his, she knows her girls have something to do with it. Either that or Phineas has developed a deadly fear of ice cream overnight and requires her moral support to conquer it. 

Unfortunately, a quick text to Ginger confirms that it is not, as she had fleetingly hoped, the latter issue, which honestly would've been much, much easier to deal with. Apparently when last asked by her friends about the Crumbcake Situation—

(They wouldn't let her live that down even after she got married. When she tried asking her husband to back her up, he joined them.)

—Isabella had made the mistake of phrasing her quickly disappearing crush as, quote, _"having given up on him."_ In hindsight, maybe that was a far too defeatist way of putting it; Isabella'd never given up on _anything_ , no matter how big or small. And this?? This was huge. The past 15 years of her life huge.

So yeah, okay. The girls assuming that she was down and deciding to bully Phineas into asking her out was kind of maybe her bad. She's in the middle of typing out an explanation that she does not _want_ to date Phineas, not _really_ , when the fireside alumni group chat starts firing with notifications. 

_Ginger: guys, bad news, she caught us :/_

_Ginger: good news, phineas and isabella have a date on friday!!! :D_

_Gretchen: OMG_

_Holly: HOLY SHIT YES IT WORKED_

_Adyson: of course it worked Gretch put the fear of fucking god in him_

_Gretchen: he ignored her for years!! Someone needed to smack some sense into him_

_Ginger: i didnt condone their methods, izzy_

_Millie: don't be a stick in the mud, ginger_

_Millie: it worked, didn't it?_

_Isabella: WHAT worked what did you guys do????_

_Gretchen: nothing!_

_Katie: nothing!_

_Millie: nothing!_

_Holly: nothing!_

_Adyson: nothing!_

_Isabella: ..._

_Gretchen: 😬_

_Ginger: look that really doesn't matter_

_Ginger: what matters is omg girl u got a date!!_

_Ginger: we have to help you get ready!_

_Katie: omg Izzy pleeeease let me plan your outfit_

_Katie: trust me I know what makes guys look but not like too much yaknow?_

_Isabella: Ew!! Katie wtf_

_Katie: whaaaaat_

_Katie: u want him to be into u right??_

_Adyson: Katie's right, Isabella. Phineas is stuck in friend mode right now. Boys are rigid like that. You need to snap him out of it by showing him you're hot shit!_

_Gretchen: you'll have to do something different with your makeup too_

_Isabella: why?_

_Gretchen: a subtle difference will cue his subconscious mind to a change in his status quo_

_Gretchen: meaning he'll be drawn to looking at your face more_

_Holly: meaning he'll be more likely to fall totally in love with your beauty!_

_Ginger: don't worry babes, we'll come over an hour before he picks you up and help you with everything :D_

_Ginger: this night is going to be completely perfect!!_

After that, the chat spirals into a frenzy of excited planning, and Isabella is drowned out in a flurry of scheduling and details and comments and suggestions that make her head start to spin. She gives up on talking the girls down, and instead chooses to simply roll with the circumstances. After all, they have a point; this _is_ something she's wanted for the better part of a decade now. Sure, maybe she's been wanting it less and less, maybe even the idea of Phineas looking at her like _that_ makes her stomach a bit queasy--but she should still give it a shot, right? She knows it’s what ten-year-old her would've wanted. 

Best case scenario, she rediscovers what it was that made her fall head over heels for the boy next door all those years ago and fulfills one of her childhood dreams. Worst case scenario, she gets to have ice cream with her best friend. 

(Something in the back of her head tells her it won't be that simple, that Phineas sounded borderline ill in that phone call, that this could seriously screw things up--but she pushes that voice away. She has a factorials quiz tomorrow and she absolutely can't get lower than a 90. She's got bigger problems right now than a potentially life-ruining date.)

Friday comes far faster than anyone would have liked. Isabella notices that Phineas has been awfully distant this week, at least by his standards. He's only rested his head on her shoulder unsolicitedly twice, and their idle locker-neighbor chats seem to have gotten briefer, more cordial. Isabella tells herself she's speculating, that her nerves are making her overthink things that are surely just a coincidence. 

She has trouble believing it. 

On the evening of the date, Katie dresses her in a low cut dark blue blouse and white skirt, paired with platform heels and and a white replica of her signature pink bow. She hasn't worn either article of clothing since the eighth grade, and she wants badly to object, feeling ridiculous and uncomfortable, but a glance in the mirror has her admitting to herself that okay, yes, she _does_ look good. And she should want to look good. She should want this night to go well. 

Shouldn't she?

The doorbell rings just as Gretchen and Ginger are finishing her makeup. She shoos them away and shushes their whispered giggles as she opens the door. 

There in the backdrop of a slowly setting sun casting glimpses of gold over the tops of Danville's rooftops stands Phineas, with his hair gelled down to be as neat as he can get it, in an ironed dress shirt and slacks and a speckled blue tie that Isabella's 99% sure belongs to Ferb, holding a bouquet of orchids and roses. 

Less than a year ago, the sight would've made her heart stop. She'd have fainted on the spot from how perfect and enchanted and wonderful it was, surely. 

Now, her eyes are drawn to how tightly the tie is wound around his neck, surely putting too much pressure on his windpipe to be comfortable. How stiff and straight his posture is, despite the twitch in his shoulders making it seem like all he wants to do is curl into himself and disappear. The harshly set, forced line of his smile. The darting of his eyes. The death grip he has on the flowers he's extending to her. 

It's not normal, date-typical nervous energy. It's not even normal, Phineas-typical nervous energy. Isabella's sure of it. But, like a fool, she ignores it, accepting the flowers with an awkward smile and shooting Ginger a glare when she swoons audibly from her hiding spot in the kitchen. He asks if she's ready to go, mechanically, like he's rehearsed it--

(Isabella's never heard him like this before. She decides instantly that she doesn't like it)

\--and she says yes and they leave, starting on the ten minute walk to the ice cream parlor a few blocks away. 

It's the longest ten minutes of Isabella's life.

For a full 330 seconds (yes, she counted) they walk in silence. It feels like a lifetime passing by as the sun sinks completely beyond the horizon. Isabella tries to remember the last time Phineas went this long without talking, and can only conjure up the memory of the week he was sick with laryngitis. Even then, he had tried very animatedly to find novel ways of communicating at the same pace he usually did. The Phineas standing next to her, the silent, tense, rigid alien hijacking her friend's body, isn't a Phineas she can recognize. It's certainly not the one she fell in love with. 

Normally, Isabella would slip her hand into her friend’s and rub her thumb over his skin in an attempt to soothe him, to at least convey that she was there for him. But right now, she feels like just looking at him too hard might make him fall apart. She doesn't dare touch him, lest the marionette strings keeping him functioning on autopilot give away and he collapses right then and there. 

Eventually, after what feels like a Millenium, Phineas mumbles something about how nice Isabella looks. She wants to be flattered, but given that Phineas hasn't even glanced at her since they left her house, it's hard not to take the compliment with a grain of salt. Gretchen was wrong about the change in makeup making him pay more attention to her face; in fact, Isabella's pretty sure this is the first time in his life he's actually _purposefully_ ignored her. 

She'd be offended if she wasn't so worried. 

She tries to facilitate a conversation. They're friends! Best friends!! It shouldn't be so hard to talk. Just because her clothes are too tight and his hair is too neat doesn't mean they're not still them.

She flounders for something to say. Usually, she'd deliver a playful insult, but for some reason it doesn't feel appropriate here. She doesn't know much about date etiquette, but she's pretty sure calling the other person a crusty bitch five minutes into the outing is out of the question. 

Instead, she settles on something safe. Something neutral. Something painfully formal and dry and so, so unlike everything she loves about talking with her best friend. 

"The tie's Ferb's, right? I've seen him wear it to a tournament before. I bet he put it on for you too, it looks like it's strangling you." 

Phineas makes a small, back-of-the-throat hum in lieu of a response. Isabella waits a few seconds, then realizes he's not going to say anything else, and continues. 

"Yeah, Ferb's a madman. I have no idea why he wears his ties so tight. He buttons his shirts right up to the collar, too!"

She cuts herself off before she can make an awkward joke about Ferb being into choking, as she's pretty sure that remarks about your date's family members' kinks are fairly high up on the list of romantic no-nos. 

Another minute passes in tense silence. Isabella's just about ready to give up on any semblance of conversation, mind wandering to her English test and the question she's pretty sure she got wrong, when--

"He did my hair, too. Burned my forehead with the straightener. I kind of feel like he did it on purpose. He had a hand steady enough to split subatomic particles when we were ten, there's no way he can't hold a straightener properly."

Isabella grins something manic, turning to find Phineas's eyes finally locked onto hers, the wobbly beginnings of a smile perched uncertainly on his lips. 

" _Finally_ ," she says with a playful roll of her eyes. "Something the bastard can't do. _Hairdressing,_ huh? I knew he couldn't be perfect at everything."

The remark earns an almost sincere chuckle from Phineas, and his shoulders relax slightly for the first time that night, and Isabella feels like she deserves a new patch for that—what it would be called she doesn't know, but this certainly feels like an accomplishment. 

The night gets gradually less bumpy from there as the two slip into their familiar dynamic. Admittedly, talking about your date's brother as much as Isabella does is probably not apropos of a traditional romantic setting, but he's both her and Phineas's best friend, and talking about him is comfortable and easy, and as Isabella orders a double scoop of cherry-vanilla ice cream on a waffle cone while relaying something funny Ferb said at their last tutoring session, the ease of Phineas's laugh and the geniality of his body language make her feel like she's done something grand. The nerves are gone, and as they sit down at a booth in the back with their treats in hand—

(Isabella immediately going back on her earlier decision to keep the insults at bay and calling Phineas a disgusting whore for adding chocolate chips and chocolate sauce to his cup of triple chocolate ice cream with brownie bits in it)

—they've both all but forgotten that they're on a date in the first place. 

Of course, that all goes to shit when Isabella makes the truly moronic decision to tell Phineas that the hair gel isn't a good look on him. 

Instead of responding with a snarky comment about her two year old attire like she'd hoped and expected, Phineas's hands jump up to his hair and his eyes widen as if he's just been electrocuted. Isabella watches in horror as in a split second her friend is reduced back to the stiff, jittery mess that greeted her at the beginning of the evening. 

_"Shit_ , you don't like it?" Phineas says with sincerity, and the expletive is warning number 2: Phineas never swears unless something is really, _really_ wrong. "Crap, I'm sorry, Isabella, I thought it would be nice, and that, like, you'd want me to look more—I dunno, presentable? I'm sorry. I won’t use the gel next time, I swear."

Isabella's heart cracks, and she can't pinpoint why.

"Phineas, calm down," she says, feeling ridiculously as though she's just hit him or done something equally as cruel, "you look fine, I was just joking."

He relaxes, but only slightly. Relief and ambivalence are mixed in equal parts in the waver of his voice as he asks, "So you're having a good time, then?"

And Isabella, who's never been one for coddling, and who's already dealt with enough bullshit in this past week from her girlfriends to put up with this new, unjustified, needy insecurity from the most confident person in her life, scowls and pushes away her ice cream, suddenly losing her appetite. 

"I _was_ until you became all weird and anxious. What is with you today? Did something happen? I've never seen you act so... _pathetic_ before."

And apparently, that was entirely the wrong thing to say, because Phineas fucking _breaks_.

"God, I knew it. I _knew_ I'd be lousy at this. Shit, _fuck_ , Isabella, I'm so sorry. You deserve way better than this and I—I don't know what I'm doing. I am just, completely out of my element here. I thought I would be able to figure it out, when we got here, when the time came, but I didn't. I don't know how this works, and I don't know how to be the person you want me to be, and—there's gotta be something broken inside me, because I _should_ want this, and I _should_ be able to do this, but I don't and I can't and I'm sorry."

Isabella balks. Of all the things she was expecting from the boy sitting across from her, a borderline nonsensical breakdown certainly wasn't one of them. She silently thanks the lord that they're the only ones in the ice cream shop tonight, and that the cashier has seemingly retreated to the back somewhere, because Phineas looks close to tears and god knows he's never been able to use an indoor voice to save his life.

"Phineas," she says, voice low and urgent, and this time she does reach over and clasp his shaking hands in hers, leaning across the counter a little. Her jaw is set and her brow is furrowed; she's not sure what to say, but she knows she's got to say something. Phineas is trembling so much it reminds her of Pinky and he's shrinking into his seat and Isabella's never seen this before in her entire life, in all the years she's known him. "If you didn't want to go on a date with me, then why did you ask?"

Phineas swallows thickly, but his hands are shaking a little less, fingers wrapping around hers a bit to ground himself. "Ginger and Gretchen and Adyson and the others. At school, while you were in your debate meeting, they—they came up to me and started saying all these things about how I was a terrible person for ignoring you and disregarding your feelings, and how, I should be ashamed that I can't acknowledge and appreciate you the way I should, and that the _least_ I could do is take you out just once, because I’m a worthless, ungrateful person and I don’t deserve you in my life if I can’t treat you right." 

Isabella's eyes widen, all the breath suddenly vanishing from her lungs. She feels like she's been sucker punched. "They...they said that?"

Phineas laughs an ugly, humorless laugh that doesn't belong in his mouth. "They love you a lot, Isabella. I'm sure they'd have killed me if it weren't illegal." His eyes darken a little. "And I mean, I don’t blame them. They were right. I really _was_ negligent and ungrateful and awful. I had no idea you liked me like that, _honest_. And I never would've realized it if they hadn't spelled it out for me. I'm a bad friend. You've been in my life for as long as I can remember, and I've never paid enough attention to you to notice something as huge as this. If I learned someone else had hurt you the same way I’ve hurt you, I’d kick their ass, too.”

"You do deserve better than me. You deserve better than anything anyone in the world could fathom. And I _wanted_ to do right by you, really I did. I practiced and experimented all week so I could make this night go well. I had Ferb and Candace give me tips. I read every study on dating and adolescent romance I could find and I _still_ couldn't get it right.”

Isabella feels like she's going to throw up. As if the insult of being on a date out of obligation wasn't bad enough, now she's seeing just how big a toll this crush business has taken on her friend. Under the fluorescent lights above their table, Phineas's skin looks pallid and sickly. He's got dark circles under his eyes (he lost _sleep_ over this. He hardly ever even slept to begin with!), which are frantic and fatigued all at once. He's even twitching a little, the veins in his neck alert and unsightly. 

The words _"I don't know"_ and _"I can't"_ have never been in Phineas's vocabulary. The boy considered even the laws of physics mere suggestions at best. Anything that he was told was "impossible" was taken as a challenge, was mastered and conquered, usually in time for pie. There was nothing in the world that Phineas Flynn couldn't do if he put his mind to it. 

Except for this. Except for going out on a date with a girl he loved, but not the way he was supposed to love her.

Isabella supposes she should be hurt. She supposes she should be crushed and betrayed by the fact that the love of her life never even considered her, couldn't bring himself to be with her even if he tried.

But she isn't. 

Instead she's just upset. Upset that her best friends in the world could be so cruel to a person who meant so much to her on her behalf. Upset that Phineas felt he needed to be someone he wasn't to be good enough for her. Upset that she herself ignored every glaring warning sign telling her this night would end in disaster to fulfill some long since discarded, selfish childhood fantasy. 

Upset that she'd hurt her friend so badly that he'd turned into someone she didn't even recognize. 

"Phineas," she breathes, and closes her eyes tight, hoping against hope that she can find a way to articulate something comprehensible through the mush of thoughts congesting her head, "you don't have to _do_ anything to ‘deserve me.’ You're my best friend. I don't care if you want to marry me or think I'm the ugliest girl alive, you'll _always_ be my best friend. I _want_ to be around you because I _like_ you. I like you and I like your family and I love our friends and I wouldn't want anything to be different from the way it is now."

"You don't have to date me to make me happy. I'm already happy! Yeah, I had a really big crush on you, for a really, _really_ long time. But to be honest, I don't anymore. The girls misunderstood something I said last week, and they attacked you and manipulated you for it, and that's not okay, and I'm _so_ sorry you put yourself through all this for me."

"I never want to see you like this. This isn't the person I made friends with when I was five, isn't the person I've _stayed_ friends with for over ten years now. You're one of the most amazing people I've ever met. I can't watch you fall apart over a date neither of us even _wanted_."

"So," Isabella slaps her hands on the table and stands up, breaking into a somewhat uneasy smile and taking a deep breath, "I'm officially declaring this outing Not A Date. And I look forward to more Not A Dates with you in the future because our platonic relationship is one of the best things in my life and I'd never want to do anything to jeopardize it." She slides out of the booth, offering her friend a hand. "So, that said, you wanna dump our garbage and get home before our friends assume we've decided to fast track our ‘relationship’ in the middle of a park somewhere?"

The joke is a risky one, but Isabella hopes it drives home the fact that she truly wants nothing to change on account of this disaster of a night. That he shouldn't feel awkward or uncomfortable around her because of one failed date. 

For a moment, Phineas says nothing, blinking vacantly up at her in the aftermath of her word-vomit. For a moment, Isabella is frightened that she’s let this derailed train careen out of control for too long, that maybe, somehow, _this_ is the hill their friendship dies upon. Wrecked. Unsalvageable. 

But then, he sidles wordlessly out of the booth, accepting her hand (and, in turn, the olive branch of platonicity and love that swells warm in her heart), and clears his throat. 

"So," he says, one hand still clutched in Isabella's and the other scooping up their trash, "you really don't have a crush on me anymore? You're not just saying that so I don't feel bad?"

Isabella laughs. "Please," she says, "your feelings aren't _that_ important to me. No, I don't have a crush on you anymore. I guess I just outgrew it." 

Phineas nods slowly, then, expression unchanging, mutters,

“Sort of like those clothes."

Isabella socks him hard in the shoulder and laughs, releasing a tension she didn't know she'd been holding. He's okay. They're okay. 

The walk back home is distinctly less awkward and stunted than the walk to the parlor. Phineas untucks his shirt and loosens his tie ("God, that could've killed me!" He says when Isabella shows him the red mark left on his neck in her phone camera, "I'm going to sue Ferb for reckless endangerment") and Isabella smudges her makeup and takes off her heels in favor of going barefoot. They laugh too loud and bump each other off the sidewalk and make fun of one another’s missteps and it's messy and unromantic and perfect. 

When they return to the Garcia-Shapiro residence, Isabella wraps her arms tightly around Phineas, hugging him close. His nerves have made him sweat through the cologne he's wearing, but she doesn't mind. She bids him goodbye and promises to have words with the girls about their antagonistic attitudes, watching with a grin as he turns to cross the street to his home. 

As she's waving her final farewell, however, something itches in the back of her mind, tugging for her attention. 

"Phineas, wait," she says without thinking, still standing on the edge of her doorstep. 

Phineas stops in the middle of the street and turns to look at her quizzically. 

"What is it?" He asks.

And something sticks out in Isabella’s periphery, a moment from earlier that night that her memory has captured and clung to even though she wasn’t quite paying attention to it at the time. 

_“I won’t use the gel next time, I swear.”_

_Next time._

_Next time??_

She’s snapped out of her reverie by Phineas’s inquisitive call of “Isabella?” Her gaze refocuses to find him back on her side of the street. She meets his puzzled blue eyes but says nothing. “What’s wrong?” He prompts. 

She blinks. 

"If you hadn't had that freakout tonight," Isabella says with a small frown, "and our ‘date’ had gone well..."

"Would you really have started going out with me? Even though you didn't want to?"

Phineas blinks at her blankly. For a second, Isabella wonders if she misinterpreted what that “next time” meant, if she’s just made things awkward all over again. 

Then, without missing a beat, he says, 

"Well, yeah. I'd do anything for you."

Isabella searches his face for the punchline to the joke, but finds it dead serious. She's a little taken aback, but she supposes she shouldn't be all that surprised. She's talking to the guy that broke his own arm in solidarity when she was seven and busted hers.

Isabella smiles and shakes her head. "You're a creep,” She says fondly, booing loudly when this causes Phineas to break out into an exaggeratedly deep Radiohead chorus. She waves goodnight for real this time, then slinks into her house, tearing off her too tight clothes and sinking immediately into bed, deciding to respond to the exploding fireside chat in the clarity of tomorrow morning. 

That's the first night she falls asleep with no doubts in her mind that she and Phineas Flynn will never, ever end up together. 

It's the first night of a lifetime that she's more than okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I love this show with my whole heart but if I have to see more forced romance pulled out of what was just a running gag I am going to scream


End file.
